Fairfax

by Jared Ravens

  “So now a woman that didn’t have to be there protected you,” she continued. “She was very strong. Courage is often punished. If both of you had been smarter she wouldn’t have had to do that. Are you now willing to listen to me?”

  Both were silent. Sophi turned towards Bern.

  “You did everything I asked you to do,” she said. “I sent many people Cella’s words, and you were the only one brave enough to print them. You don’t have to do any more; there will be no more messengers. I thought should could be reasoned with and explained, but she’s chosen otherwise. I won’t help her any longer.”

  Bern nodded. Sophi turned towards Fairfax.

  “You hid,” she said, “when you needed to do otherwise.”

  “I didn’t think it was time…” Fairfax said, looking to the ground.

  “You don’t feel any different now,” she replied. But now there’s people dead and you’re in a worse position. I hope you feel better before too many more people die.”

  Fairfax glanced up at her, angry.

  “Why are you criticizing me?” he said. “This is Celia’s fault!”

  “Yes!” Sophi exclaimed. “She is responsible for her actions, but you ignored every warning. Don’t let her do it again.”

  He looked over to the hills where Celia and Atrios and Curson lounged.

  “If you aren’t scared,” she continued. “Then you aren’t breathing.”

  He felt Sophi’s small hands around his chest, the delicate fingers crawling up his chest. He wasn’t sure who was touching him.

  “You have to be ready this time,” she said. “Where is the angry warrior inside of you? Has it been softened?”

  Fairfax stood up quickly, walking away from Sophi and the comfort she emitted. She didn’t follow him. He stood, squeezing his fists into balls as he looked out across the desert. When he glanced back at Sophi she was waited calmly, as if expecting an answer.

  “You need to go back,” he said to Bern. “Before anything else bad happens to you.”

  Bern nodded.

  “And you need to take her with you,” Fairfax said, nodding towards Sophi.

  “She won’t leave you, Fairfax,” the voice said through Sophi. “And neither will I.”

  As if released off a rope Sophi ran towards Fairfax and gripped his waist tightly. He looked down into her eyes and saw the fear in them. Vivian was gone. Bern looked at him, knowingly. Fairfax let out a deep sigh. From behind Bern he saw a figure approaching. He asked Bern if he could leave them.

  McKenna walked past them and entered the ring of light. She approached Fairfax slowly. He watched her with an unreadable gaze. The girl clutched his arm, her face in the general direction of McKenna. When she was several body lengths away McKenna bent down and clutched her knees as she sat down.

  “Is now a good time to speak?” She asked.

  "I'm not going anywhere."

  "Do you know who I am?"

  He examined her from the distance. He walked a few steps forward and sat down. Sophi sat down beside him.

  "I know I did."

  "That's a start.”

  “McKayla?” He asked.

  “Very close,” she said. “McKenna.”

  He whispered in the ear of the girl and she stood up and strutted away. Aware that the girl had sensitive ears, he waited until she was well out of range.

  “She likes you a lot,” McKenna said.

  “Too much.”

  “Its good to have a loyal companion.”

  “She thinks she’s protecting me,” Fairfax said, shaking his head.

  “Really?” McKenna said, craning her neck to look at the girl. The girl looked back at the same time, checking to see that they had not left the camp.

  “She’s done it before,” Fairfax said. “I can’t lie, I’m not still here because of skill.”

  “That’s not true,” McKenna protested. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

  “Gotten Bern’s wife killed. Destroyed a whole village of people and forced them out of their homes. Brought all of these people out here…” He shook his head.

  “Killed the larges monster in Holm. Defeated Atrios several times. Stood up to those people feared the most…”

  Fairfax looked into her eyes.

  “I didn’t do most of it alone. None of it, really.”

  “Who does?” She asked. “I used to go to temple nearly every day. My mother made me. We would have classes and they would teach us the true word. Well, that’s what they called it. I didn’t listen to most of it but there were parts that caught my attention.

  “I had to read a book of Celia’s wisdom quotes. I hated it. Hated almost every word. They were all so cynical and mean, angry… I didn’t relate to any of them. There was one, though. It was ‘No one is innocent’. It sounded so mean but I kept reading it, over and over. I thought about it. Then I looked through other books and saw it in other sources. Human sources, quoting older sources. It wasn’t a bitter quote in those contexts. It meant everyone was a willing player. Everyone had a role. They all wanted to be a part of something and they all wanted a hand in making something greater. It meant you shouldn’t feel sorry for anyone, because no one wants to be looked down on as weak.”

  “Is that what Celia meant when she said it?”

  McKenna shook her head, looking over Fairfax’s shoulder at Celia.

  “No. I wrote a paper on it and they kicked me out of the class.”

  Fairfax laughed. Then he looked down, away from her.

  “Its good in theory.”

  “If Waring is right,” She continued. “Then it just keep going. So how can you feel guilt?”

  Fairfax looked up at her.

  “We were friends, right?”

  “For a long time,” she said, nodding.

  “Whatever you did to me,” he said, “do you still feel guilty for it?”

  “A little,” she said. “A little.”

  “Is that why you told me that story?”

  “I’m hoping that I’ll stop feeling guilty for not stopping this from happening,” she replied. “So it’s a very selfish story.”

  “McKenna,” he said. “I won’t stop feeling bad for what I’ve done, but I don’t feel bad at all for what I am, so thank you for not stopping it from happening.”

  She looked up at him, and tear rolled down her face.

  She could feel the groveling before she saw it. As she waded through the stench of that the army of The Hill, she could hear the high tenor whine of a plea. Turning past a campfire and stepping over some lounging soldiers she caught a glimpse of her father's face, highlighted in yellow firelight, a fake smile upon his pained face. He appeared older in this light, devilish but not stressed or pathetic. It gave her a twinge of admiration: he did not give up.

  He was speaking to someone just out of the light. She closed in enough to hear what they said.

  "If you do feel sorry, you would do well to do as I ask of you," Genesee told him.

  "Well of course, I would be honored to work with you. It was just that this came direct and I knew the opportunity.."

  "You should have come to me," Genesee replied, harshly. “You were told to remain in Yelis, A generous gift you’ve now returned by your actions."

  "Sir..." Theo replied. "Please, I do love it there. If you would consider..."

  "You should consider your actions mean to me," Genesee declared, turning and walking away, his assistants following close behind. Delia, standing behind her husband, spit at Genesee's heels. Genesee did not acknowledge the action but Theo pulled his wife back and reprimanded her, instigating an argument.

  "You should listen to Genesee," McKenna interrupted. "He's the one in charge here.”

  Delia glared at her.

  “I’m glad to know where my own daughter’s loyalties lie,” she replied.

  "I am all right, by the way," McKenna said, walking past them. Theo's eyes followed her. “Thank you for asking.”

  "I know you would be
fine, you're my daughter."

  “Don’t remind me," she sighed, digging in the pot by the fire. Undefined black meat floated up. She stuck a fork in and and moved a piece of meat to a wood bowl.

  “You think Genesee knows what he’s doing. He doesn't have an army, I do," Theo continued.

  "With his soldiers," McKenna added, turning back towards her parents.

  "Celia's soldiers," Delia corrected.

  “Seems like they’re doing what Genesee wants them to do.”

  "What do you think they'll do when Atrios tells them to do something?” her father asked, smiling.

  "They're loyal to Celia,” her mother replied. "We've been with them across the desert. I know them. All she has to do is give the order and they’ll follow.”

  “What’s stopping her?” McKenna asked.

  “The right timing,” Delia said confidently. “She tells me that she prefers not to have any more fighting. She waiting to prevent any more bloodshed.”

  Theo cracked his neck and pulled his shoulders back, grimacing. A woman rushed to him, placing a board in back of him to lay down on.

  "I guess you have it all figured out," McKenna said, tasting the meat and then placing it back in the bowl. "I hope you do chose the right side to be on."

  "Why do you think Genesee came to me?" Theo asked, settling in on the board the woman held at an angle. "He doesn't know if they will follow his order."

  “That’s a good observation,” McKenna said. “But I would ask that if Atrios does order his army to fight Fairfax and the people of Eae, and they listen, who do you think Atrios has loyalty to? And once he takes his army back, what power do you have? And that is if they follow him, because if they don't, won't he take it upon himself to attack your army himself? Not that you are in anything less than fighting shape."

  She took in the glares of both of her parents.

  "I have thought this all through," he informed her. "And there are risks rom either side. But there are rewards for loyalty."

  "I have never wavered from Celia," her mother said. "And I have received nothing but prosperity. You would do well to heed her desires."

  "I've seen what her desires are," McKenna said. "Its murder and cruelty.”

  "McKenna!" her mother exclaimed. "You have not idea what she has given you."

  "Death and suffering," her father interjected. "You're right. But if Fairfax doesn't die in this desert then we'll all be dead. So that's a calculation that beats all others, doesn't it?”

  His face was firm and humorless in the light of the fire. He had figure out the best route for self preservation and, perhaps, the preservation of his family. McKenna looked at the hill on which Celia lounged.

  "What's she waiting for?" she asked.

  "A moment," her father replied. "The right one."

  Celia lay back, sighing as the peak of a hill dug into curve of her back. She bent further, grunting and straightening until her head touched the tip of another hill and she herd a crack in her spine.

  "Ughhh," she said, lazily, aware of how ridiculous she looked pouring her body over numerous foothills. "How do you feel?" she asked Curson as she crawled sluggishly back to a larger hill to lay on.

  "Better," said Curson. He was examining his axe with glossy eyes, looking for any dents or scratches. Theo had brought it over to him just moments before on the back of a wagon. He could not see a single scratch in the gleaming silver but he would have to wait til his head was clearer to check again. He picked up his ceramic cup in his massive hand and clicked it to Celia's. They each took a swallow of grava and Celia settled into the hill like it was a cushion.

  "And you, Atrios?” She asked

  Atrios sat on his haunches, cleaning the edge of his sword, glaring at the enemy with yellow eyes that glowed from the inside of his helmet. "I feel nothing," he replied.

  "Oh, bullocks," Celia said, smiling and opening her eyes to the same sight: The little man chained to a post stuck into the dirt. "Have another cup. There's nothing you can do right now."

  "Once he's better he's going to rip out of that chain and run free."

  "I'm sure you're just dying for that, Atrios," Celias said. "He's not that dumb. He knows what will happen if he runs."

  "He's not coming back to our house," Atrios stated.

  "I can't imagine.." Curson said, setting the axe down and taking another drink.

  "Well, its my house," Celia replied. "And you're right, no one stays in my house without my invitation."

  "Genesee's going to bring more down to defend him," Atrios replied. "If we don't do something now, when will we have our chance?"

  Celia sighed and looked up at the sky, points of light blinking at her from the ceiling above her. It occurred to her that someone up there was watching her, someone more powerful than her, someone that could do something about this situation. Someone that was choosing to do nothing. Fuck them.

  "If you could say something to him, what would you say?" she asked.

  "To Fairfax?" Atrios said. "I'd say 'die'."

  "So eloquent. And you, Curson?"

  "I'd beat him with the axe he stole."

  “Mmmm. That's not words. I'm glad you're both with me." She glanced over across the armies to where Spaulding sat, filtering rocks through his fingers. They could take him on, certainly. They could do away with Fairfax. But Goetz. Oh, Goetz, what could it do to them? After she beat down Spaulding, Genesee, a small army and Fairfax, it might just make them all disappear. If it could do that.

  If anyone was going to do that it was going to be her.

  "If I were to say something to him," she said. “It would not be that."

  The letter arrived via a young girl, a handmaiden that had just arrived. She was dusty and worn from the journey, considerably less clean than she desired to be, but she still struck Fairfax with the her force of her beauty. She offered her hands to an Eae soldier and a request to deliver a letter to Fairfax. Nothing more, she said. She was chaperoned to him, and he and Sophi stood up to receive her.

  She stared icily at him as she handed him the paper, brown, almond eyes that would not break from his gaze. He opened the letter.

  Do you wish to be imprisoned like your friend? That is what Genesee will have you do.

  Death in glorious battle is eternal life. Everything is reborn.

  Imprisonment and torture are the wages of life.

  In fairness, Celia

  When he looked up at Celia she smiled, leaning on a hill. She closed her eyes and laid back, falling asleep.

  The Letter

  Bern could not sleep that night. He stacked a number of thick blankets on the dry ground to simulate a mattress and laid on them for hours, staring numbly up at the sky and waiting for another round of tears to pour through him. He believed he could smell her scent floating up from the fabric, each inhale bringing him closer to breaking down.

  At the end of the sleepless night several of Theo’s soldiers came to fetch him. They sat him down in the mess tent and presented him with a plate of food. He sat on the ground of the large tent and listened to the sound of a hundred men and women eat, his own plate untouched. He stared at the horizon, feeling dull and limp inside. There were days of walking ahead, onwards some listless goal he could care less about. His only desire was to return to the blankets and let the desert wind bury him under a cloud of dust. Closing his eyes to hold in his emotion he heard a voice from over his shoulder.

  "You'll need to eat that for the journey," Martel said. Recognizing her from pictures he stood up, feeling sweaty and destitute looking. “I know you're not feeling well enough," She continued.

  "I. Can't eat," he said. "I'm too sick."

  She nodded sympathetically. Bern studied her face, looking for similarities to the faces Celia chose to use. He noticed some, mostly in the smile that curled mischievously at the ends. But in Martel this was comforting, where as Celia's smile meant trouble.

  "I know what happened, and I'm sorry," she said. "I know we can
be unforgiving and callus, but that is not the way all things are."

  Bern assumed she mean 'we' as in the managers of The Hill. He nodded but could not tell her I thought she was right.

  "I don't think I can go on the trip back," He said. "I don't really want to be here with these people."

  "I understand why. You probably want to cease to exist. But that isn't going to happen. I can offer you the next best thing."

  His attention perked up at her phrasing. She pulled a sealed envelope from inside her clothing and offered it to him. He reached out for the note but she pulled it back and looked at him suspiciously, her face resembling Celia’s now.

  "So you are a little alive, then," she said. “I have something I need you to do.”

  “What is it?"

  "You know she is not dead."

  "I have heard that before," he replied warily.

  "But it's difficult to believe."

  "She's not the same."

  "You never are. But you have to believe me that she is better than she was before."

  “I’ll just have to take your word on that."

  "Do you want to see for sure?" she asked, her head tilting slightly. Bern was suddenly at full attention.

  "You want me to deliver a letter to Waring."

  "There will be more than that involved. But, yes."

  "People that go there don't ever come back."

  "Not usually, but it's because it's actually quite nice there."

  Bern considered this. Bautomet's home did not strike him as someplace people would want to stay.

  "Also, usually they don't have a choice," she continued. "You will."

  "The note is instructions for what to do with me?"

  "Instructions for what I think you should do. Together. Waring has a choice in this as well."

  "What is that?"

  "It would not make much sense for you to read it now. All I am asking at this point is if you want to see your wife again. Before she continues on."

  “Ohh," he said, suddenly stricken with emotion. "I..."

  "You want to see her but you don't want her to go away," she said, nodding. "I think it will be easier for you than that."

  His head swam with emotions. He would be going underground, probably never to return. It was legend there were secret passages down that people found hidden in the woods. They would enter the door, never to be heard from again. The doorways would be patched up and the entrances closed, sealing them in forever. But Martel was telling Bern that these same dark holes offered hope.